


I'm Your Boogeyman

by ghostboi



Series: Graveyard Digger, Coffin Case Sinner [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dean loves his Sammy, Halloween, Haunted Houses, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Possessive Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has a Fear of Clowns, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killers, The Author Regrets Nothing, creepy haunted house actor is creepy, the boogeyman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboi/pseuds/ghostboi
Summary: “You’re in the lair of the boogeyman now.”It was Sam’s turn to laugh, and he retorted, “You’re not exactly wrong.” Fortunately for him, he and the boogeyman were tight.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Graveyard Digger, Coffin Case Sinner [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/320444
Comments: 2
Kudos: 163





	I'm Your Boogeyman

**Author's Note:**

> ahh I meant to post this on Halloween but it was a busy night. I forgot. Oops.

“Boo.”

Sam looked over his shoulder as arms slipped around his waist and the familiar voice murmured near his ear. 

“Hey jerk,” he shot his brother a smile as Dean leaned in close to brush lips against his cheek, “Where have you been?”

“Out for a drive,” the older man smirked, nipping at his earlobe, “Bitch. Wanna go to a haunted house?”

Of course he did, and Dean knew it. Sam loved haunted houses. It wasn’t necessarily the ‘getting scared’ bit - they didn’t scare or startle him very often. He did enjoy the attempts, though, and the costumes and ambiance; and watching other people get freaked out was amusing.

The seventeen year old chuckled as Dean grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the motel room, in the direction of the car. “Thought haunted houses bored you.”

His brother gave him a slight grin and answered, “But this one has a monster in it.”

A monster, hmm? Sam raised his brows at his brother’s back, but allowed himself to be led to the Impala. Dean had been restless for days now, and had spent the last few days looking for a target. The older man glanced back and winked at him, and Sam figured he had found one.

A short while later, he was standing beneath a lit street light, eyeing the Halloween decorations surrounding the haunted house. It wasn’t a house so much as an old building with fake blood splatters and painted warnings on the outer walls. Lifesize scarecrows and painted ghouls and zombies lined the path leading inside, and people in costumes were jumping out to scare the visitors to the creepy old building.

Sam’s eyes shifted to Dean as his brother approached through the glow of street lamps and orange lighting. A clown with a bleeding mouth rushed out of the shadows suddenly, moving between them, and Sam stepped back, startled: he was not a fan of clowns at all. The costumed actor cackled, a gleefully evil sound, and moved forward, but Dean was there suddenly, standing between him and the face-painted menace. 

His brother’s voice was a growl, “Beat it, Chuckles. Back to your circus of doom.” The clown took a step toward them but paused as Dean shook his head; the actor apparently thought better of it, turning instead to chase after some girls passing by.

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean turned and smirked at him, but it didn’t stop him from shifting closer as the man slipped an arm around his shoulders. “C’mon,” his brother grinned, guiding him toward the building ahead of them, “I got the tickets, let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were entering the dark old building, illuminated by strings of orange and purple light strands and flashing strobe lights. Fake fog was pouring into the entrance, and Halloween music, warped to sound creepy, was loud enough to make his teeth feel as if they were vibrating. A shiver of anticipation, the sort you get when you walk into a haunted house and prepare yourself to be terrified by whatever may be lurking inside, raced down his spine. Sam grinned at his brother and caught hold of Dean’s hand; Dean’s eyes caught and held his, and a shiver of an entirely different sort raced through him as the other licked his lips. He shot his brother another grin and pulled Dean through the hallway leading deeper into the building. 

They made their way down the hallways, passing ghastly creatures and moving through the propped-out rooms of murder scenes. They had just entered the haunted hospital room, a standard for every elaborate haunted house, when Dean tugged Sam to a halt. His brother pulled him out of the doorway, into the unlit corner just inside the room. 

Moments later, three girls entered the room and moved by them without noticing them. Both watched as a nurse with a blood splattered gown and a cut throat lurched toward the girls. The girls let out screams and laughter, and backed away.. right into the waiting arms of the scene’s maniacal doctor. More screeches of laughter from the freaked out girls, until one of them cried, “Hey creep, hands off!” The doctor had arms around her and his hands on her breasts; even beneath the makeup, Sam could see him leering down at her. The actor humped against her, and the girl let out a horrified, angry shout. She jerked away, her friends clutching her hands to help her, and the three shot the doctor angry glares as they stomped out of the room.

“You have to stop doing that!” the nurse stomped across the room to confront the man, “I’m serious!” 

“It’s scary,” the doctor shot back, “They like it.”

“Ugh, I’m so done working with you.” The nurse turned and made her way toward the exit, leaving the doctor laughing after her. 

“That the guy?” Sam turned his head to whisper above the creepy music. He felt Dean’s lips near his ear as the other man murmured, “Yeah. Did a little research, found out he’s a coach for a local high school soccer team, and he has a bad habit of grabbing teenage girls. Overheard some girls talking about him yesterday. They’re afraid they’ll get kicked off the team if they tell.”

“What an asshole.”

They watched as several more groups moved through the rooms - and as the doctor grabbed several more kids, boys and girls alike, going as far as pushing a girl who was alone face-first against the wall and humping against her.

Finally, the doctor was alone again, and his brother started to move past him. He paused as Sam caught his arm. “No cameras?”

Dean shook his head, “Checked last night, snuck in this morning and checked again. None.” Sam nodded, then moved to the edge of the shadowed alcove they were in, reaching out to snag a cheap, white hockey mask hanging precariously on the wall. He moved back to his brother and offered it to Dean. 

“Clever Sammy,” the murmur of approval had Sam’s heart leaping against his chest, as it always did, and he leaned forward to press his mouth against Dean’s. His brother pressed him against the wall, claiming his mouth and sliding a hand down his stomach to brush his crotch. 

When they parted, Sam took a moment to catch his breath. He was still slightly breathless as he whispered in Dean’s ear, “Let me go first, distract him.”

Sam waited until the doctor turned to move back into the shadows for his next group of victims, before stepping out of the dark alcove, to the room’s entrance. He moved into the room, deliberately looking away from where he knew the doctor was waiting, eyes on the props and horrific displays scattered through the room. When the doctor came out of the shadows at him with a cackle, he pretended to be startled and stepped back. The man moved toward him, backing him against a table on which a mannequin with entrails hanging out of it was lying.

“Welcome to my hospital,” the man moved in closer, “Ready to become one of my experiments?” 

Sam glanced around, as though looking for an escape; he gritted his teeth but forced himself to pretend to be unnerved as hands slipped down his front, and a plastic knife brushed his crotch. 

“You’re in the lair of the boogeyman now.” 

It was Sam’s turn to laugh, and he retorted, “You’re not exactly wrong.” Fortunately for him, he and the boogeyman were tight. 

The man’s fake-evil cackle was cut short and he stumbled back as a hand in his hair suddenly jerked him away from Sam. 

At that same moment, another group of people entered the room. Sam’s eyes flicked to them as they crossed to where he was standing, wide eyes on the doctor and Dean.

Sam stepped away from where he had been pressed against the table. His gaze shifted back to his brother, who was wearing the white hockey mask to hide his face, as he jerked the doctor backward again. Before the man could recover his footing, Dean had an arm around his neck and a knife against his throat. The doctor started, “Get off, you -” His words were cut short as Dean drew the blade across his throat.

Startled screams beside him as blood sprayed from the man’s neck and he slumped in Dean’s hold, then one of the girls laughed, “That scared me, it was super realistic. Let’s go before he comes after us!” The group left the room quickly, laughing and talking, and Sam’s eyes shifted back to his brother. Dean released the doctor and the man collapsed to the floor, then leaned down to wipe his blade clean on the man’s hospital gown. 

He watched as his brother grasped the actor beneath the arms and hauled him up to prop him in a nearby chair, knocking the mannequin that had been sitting there out of his way. The man’s head lolled to the side, eyes open and blood pouring down his throat and the front of his gown. Dean righted the mannequin, leaning it against the chair behind the dead actor, then propped the plastic knife the doctor-actor had been holding in its hand. He turned to face Sam - the younger Winchester saw him wink behind the mask he was wearing - then turned and exited the room. Sam waited a moment before following after him. 

When he found him waiting in the next room, Dean had put his knife away and had discarded the hockey mask. His brother grabbed his hand and pulled him close to brush their mouths together, then guided him onward through the haunted house. He laughed softly and shook his head as green eyes peered back at him and Dean called above the music, 

“Happy Halloween, Sammy.”


End file.
